Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the characters, the settings, or anything else that has come from JK Rowling's imagination.
Chapter 3: News from the Homefront
The path to Ron's room was surprisingly empty; even the cozy living room was devoid of any presences – surprising, since Harry had assumed to find, at the very least, Chantielle in one of the over-stuffed armchairs. The lack of inhabitants, however, was a well-deserved blessing, as Harry found his eyelids becoming heavier with each passing step.
Coming upon Ron's doorway, Harry paused, lifting a hand to knock on the door. In the moment's hesitation, he smiled to himself, dropping his hand back to his side. Knocking. Knocking. Ron would have thought him daft. Harry could imagine him now, drowsily rubbing his eyes; what're you doing, mate? I was asleep…
Instead, Harry brought a hand to the doorknob, trying to quietly open the entrance way, in case Ron was sleeping.
Of course, he realized, he shouldn't have assumed anybody would have been asleep. And instead of just one occupant in the room –
A mass of fluffy, brown hair attacked Harry's vision as he tried to survey his surroundings. Harry found himself in a suffocating hug, all the while a shrill girl's voice rung in his ears – "Harry! Oh, Harry! We've been…"
Whatever was to come next was cut off by another voice, harrumphing from the far side of the room, presumably on the bed. "Hermione! Honestly, you do that every time to Harry. Welcome back, mate…"
Hermione stepped back, abashed, to face the smiling Harry. Embarrassedly brushing a hand through his messy hair, Harry looked at his two friends, bemused. "I thought…I thought you would be asleep. I mean, it's late…"
"Blimey, mate, we overheard mum saying that they were going to go get you today – you don't expect us to go asleep with that bit of information, do you?"
"But, Mrs. Weasley does think we're asleep. So we have to be quiet, right, Ron?!" Hermione added, including a quick, scathing look towards Ron, lounging on his bed.
"Don't know why you're looking at me like that. I wasn't the one nearly shrilling like a banshee when Harry walked in – " Ron countered, shrugging indifferently.
Deftly ignoring his friends, Harry walked into the room, looking around. Everything was how he remembered – the walls and ceilings were still covered in orange Chudley Cannon posters, along with the Ron's bed still being covered with a Chudley Cannon's comforter. A makeshift bed had been created next to Ron's, covered with mismatched sheets and a comforter. Harry sat down on the lumpy, though comfortable, bed, fingering the purple and twilight sheets.
"Yeah, sorry, mate – mum said to apologize for the bed. But we just have too many people staying – she was mighty upset, though…" Ron started, watching Harry take note of his bed.
Harry grinned. "It's fine – it really doesn't matter. I'm just glad to be out of the Dursley's."
"Almost all of us have makeshift beds, now…there's too many people in the house to give them all proper beds. I'm up in Ginny's room, again…Ginny went to bed early tonight, in case you were wondering why she wasn't here with us…we didn't find out you were coming until late," Hermione informed Harry as she moved to sit at the end of Ron's bed.
Harry merely averted his eyes to look at the floor, a flash of pain crossing into the brilliant green. Hermione quickly bit her lip. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't even think – so, so…you've definitely broken it off…I thought, maybe…"
"I thought we went through this at the end of school," Ron shot a scathing look at Hermione, changing suddenly into an over enthused smile towards Harry. "So, heard any good news about the war, Harry?"
The change of subject might have seemed off-key to anyone else, but Harry had to grin at his friend's effort to lighten his sudden dark mood. "It's alright, Hermione…" Harry's sentence trailed off as a thought struck him. "Why is Fred home? I didn't think Fred and George came home that much anymore…"
"Ah, that. It's just for Bill and Fleur's wedding," Ron started.
"Or, at least, that's all we've been told. I can't believe it's that. Fred's barely been a help around here at all – and with the rest of the Order being around here…" Hermione added.
"Well, there's that. But it's been nice having him around – at least it means there's somebody that isn't wrapped up completely in this wedding!" No sooner had Ron finished than a large, overstuffed pillow knocked him upside the head.
"Honestly, Ron! It's like you have absolutely no feelings! This is important for Fleur – and Bill – and all you can do is whine about why nobody else wants to go play Quidditch or wizard's chess," Hermione stormed.
Ron scrunched up his face in exasperation, one hand tousling his hair. "Do you really need four people looking over stupid, bloody flowers?"
Harry watched the argument back and forth until the voices began to grow in volume and anger. It was then that he decided to jump in, before Mrs. Weasley decided to come into the room and break up their late-night reunion. "Wow – Charlie was right when he said that the house was filled with high tension because of the wedding…how's Bill doing through all this?"
Hermione smiled fondly. "Bill's turned into such a gentleman. I mean, honestly, it's all 'whatever makes Fleur happy…' "
"Don't listen to her, Harry. Bill's only like that when he's around Mum, and Fleur…and Hermione. The rest of the time he's trying to figure out what's different between all the flower arrangements that Fleur told him to choose from. He's mad, really, to even think about getting married," a thoughtful expression crossed Harry's flame-haired friend. "I'm never getting married."
"You're such an ogre, Ron…I don't care what you say, I think Bill's been doing fantastic. And Fleur! She's actually reasonable to talk to now! You'll see, Harry…even Mrs. Weasley doesn't mind talking to her anymore."
Harry grinned at Hermione; he remembered when he first met Fleur. She was beautiful, but Mrs. Weasley, or any of the women, could barely put up with her. "Well, at least they're getting along better." Harry bit his lip, suddenly remembering the new woman he met briefly in the kitchen. "Blimey! I almost forgot to ask – who's the new girl? Is she a part of the Order?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, but before she had a chance to answer, a grinning Ron jumped in. "Oh, you must be talking about Chantielle. We heard her and mum get in a row downstairs – were you here for that?" Ron continued talking, barely stopping for Harry's nod in response. "She kind of came out of no where – I've never seen her before. We're pretty sure she's a part of the Order, but no matter what, she's bloody fun…"
"I remember her coming into the Grimmauld Place a few times late a night while we stayed there. So that must mean she's a member of the Order….I keep telling Ron that, but he never listens…" Hermione interrupted.
"Well, I never saw her there…" Ron harrumphed.
"That's because she always came at night; if she stayed during the day, she must've stayed in one of the rooms. But how she was allowed to join the Order of the Phoenix is beyond me. She doesn't take this war seriously, and she's far too unprofessional…and she obviously upsets Mrs. Weasley…"
Much to Harry's amusement, it was now Ron's turn to roll his eyes. "Hermione thinks everything fun is wrong. Chantielle is great, when she stays here! Mum doesn't like her much…"
"Wonder why," Hermione muttered.
"But Tonks gets along with her. And so does Lupin and Kingsley!"
"I wonder what she does for the Order," Harry mused, stifling a yawn.
"We dunno, mate. We don't even know what she does for a job…"
"If she has a job," Hermione interjected.
The trio fell into an easy silence as they pondered their discussions; so much had happened over summer without Harry knowing. But was the Order winning the fight against Voldemort? Or was the loss of their greatest supporter, Dumbledore, threatening to destroy them?
It was Harry that got the courage to ask what they all had begun to think about.
"And Hogwarts? What's going to happen?"
The silence permeated through the room. Ron stared blankly at his hands, refusing to acknowledge the fact that Hogwarts might not reopen.
"It'll reopen. It has to. What would all the students do without it? And it's still the safest place…even with…with Dumbledore gone…." Hermione trailed off.
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was quieted by the sounds of footsteps stopping outside of Ron's room. Instead, he contented himself with a quick nod at Hermione's reassurance, a small, sad smile crossing his face.
Hermione crossed the small space between the beds, giving Harry a quick hug before whispering her goodbyes to her two friends. Slipping out of the room – Mrs. Weasley having already left – Hermione made it to Ginny's room, leaving Harry and Ron to slip into their beds and stare at the dark silence around them.
Neither spoke, though thoughts raged through their minds. Sounds came and went throughout the house as doors opened and closed, slowly lulling the friends to sleep.